


Comets

by trashprincehamlet



Category: Hamlet - Shakespeare
Genre: M/M, also shakespeare festival at my school just happened and this is quite timely, fluff with angst at the end, i just made this at 3am, inspired by multiple tumblr posts, sads everywhere
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-20
Updated: 2015-04-10
Packaged: 2018-03-17 19:16:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 4
Words: 2,109
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3540923
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/trashprincehamlet/pseuds/trashprincehamlet
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"When beggars die, there are no comets seen/The heavens themselves blaze forth the death of princes." - William Shakespeare's Julius Caesar (II.2.30-32)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Morning

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, so I wrote this when we were taking up Julius Caesar and I noticed Calphurnia's lines in Act 2. And I just thought of all the Julius Caesar references in Hamlet, which I'd read recently, and I thought, "Why not?"

"My lord, why do you rouse me this early?"

Horatio rubbed morning wakefulness out of his eyes as he labored to escape the tangle of linen sheets and his prince's arms. When Hamlet woke up of his own accord and insisted you get out of the sack too, it was something important.

"Ah, Horatio!" Hamlet replied energetically, "the players are in town! I hear they're putting on a good show, too, in the afternoon. The Tragedy of Julius Caesar, I believe it was called, written by an excellent playwright of English origin."

"My lord, we have class in the afternoon. The professor of Astronomy is a strict one and he has had it with our excuses. If I miss more class I'll fall behind," Horatio said, worried. "And they might revoke my scholarship."

"No worries, Damon dear," Hamlet reassured his friend. "We can attend the morning lecture for Astronomy, or get Rosencrantz to take notes for us. If they do revoke your scholarship, I'll pay your tuition."

"My lord-"

"Oh, good Horatio, you must learn to loosen up once in a while."

In the end, the young scholar's fondness for theater won over his responsibility, and he decided to accompany the prince of Denmark to see the play.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, so this is the first chapter of the thing. It's four chapters all in all, but most of them are pretty short ('cept Chapter 2, that's probably going to be a bit long) since this work is fluff. Will be updated every Thursday (hopefully). 
> 
> I already posted this, but it's not the final version and I'm still making some edits to it, maybe add some description and make it a bit longer?
> 
> Thanks for reading my works!


	2. The Play's the Thing

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Basically, this is just tragic Danish boyfriends fanboying over tragic Roman boyfriends. Couple cutes before the sads.
> 
> (If you're reading Julius Caesar, you might want to avoid this for spoilers [can you spoil historical events and centuries-old plays, though?].)

The play began with a seemingly unrelated scene, two tribunes harassing plebeians for their sudden shift of opinion. The pair sat through this patiently. When the scenery shifted, however, they began to perk up. As the Lupercalia festivities were underway, a soothsayer had interrupted, warning Caesar to "Beware the ides of March!" The object of this portent had brushed the soothsayer off, and the crowd moved forward to the racetracks.

"Quite a sinister warning. Caesar's decision to ignore this will surely contribute to his downfall," Horatio commented, delivering a detached analysis. "It's a common feature of tragedies. The hero is given an opportunity for redemption and he throws it away.

Now, Brutus and Cassius were alone. The latter talked of overthrowing Caesar and seizing power, though he veiled it under patriotism and concern for the general public of Rome.

"Brutus, can't you see he's trying to manipulate you?!" Hamlet cried at the actor. "Besides, Cassius hasn't even given any reasonable statements to support killing Caesar, his attacks are all-what's the word for it, Horatio?"

"Ad hominem," the scholar replied.

"Yes! Oh, Brutus, stop getting blinded by your stupid idealism! Killing Caesar seems like a good course of action, though. The man is an arrogant and selfish fool."

The lightning and omens in Scene 3 spooked the prince, and he hid his face on Horatio's shirtsleeve for a while. When Cassius came on stage, announcing to Casca that he had gone bare-chested into a thunderstorm, the pair burst into laughter, forgetting Hamlet's fright.

Meanwhile, the curtains went down for Act 2.

Hamlet began to sympathize with Brutus, seeing himself mirrored in the character during his indecision. He was puzzled by the conspirators' entrance to the villa, and began wondering what this meant for their fate.

"It's Portia! She's my favorite!"

It was Horatio's turn to join in the frenzy. He had admired Brutus' wife when he read Plutarch's works, and seeing her brought to life onstage was wonderful.

Hamlet was busy analyzing everything that had happened in the scene. "Cassius comes to Brutus' house in the middle of the night...that could symbolize malicious intent...but in Act 1, Scene 3, he seemed to have begun the conspiracy for a noble cause..." He turned to the scholar, who was still in awe at the poetic verse Brutus and Portia had exchanged. "Say, Horatio, this play is making history more complicated for me than it ought to."

"It is likely that it was the playwright's intention," Horatio agreed. "He probably wanted you to see these events in a different light and come to your own conclusions instead of blindly accepting everything your professors tell you, don't you think?"

Hamlet chewed on this as Caesar lost another chance at redemption, trusting Decius' flattery over Calphurnia's pleas.

After the panic of the last scenes of Act 2, the moment they were waiting for finally arrived: the assassination scene. The drama and suspense that built up-the senators' anguish, Brutus' and Cassius' furtive whispers, last ditch attempts at saving Rome's dictator perpetuus-kept the students on edge and wanting more. The stabbing it culminated with was well-orchestrated, gripping the audience as a shred of Caesar's humanity was shown, contrasting beautifully with the man who had arrogantly brushed off Cimber's flattery moments before.

Hamlet, an honest boy who didn't put stock in deceit and disliked the manipulation used by the ambassadors who frequented his father's court, couldn't help but cringe at how _fake_  Antony was acting towards the conspirators. Despite Horatio's explanation that this was his character flaw and that it was part and parcel of politics ("You're going to be king one day, my lord. I'm afraid you have no choice but to get used to it."), he was disgusted.

Hamlet kept ranting until he saw Brutus return to the stage.

Throughout "Romans, Countrymen, and Lovers," Hamlet wondered how people could find this oration bland and lifeless. Yes, it was in plainspoken prose, simple and unornamented, but it told the audience volumes about Brutus, his love for his countrymen, his determination to do good, and his devotion to his ideals. That, in the prince's mind, was the most beautiful thing of all, more than Antony's poetic, but manipulative and insincere, oration. 

Hamlet would never admit it to himself, but deep down, he quite liked Antony's too and enjoyed it very much. That was probably because of the actor, who managed to pull off the weeping so skillfully that the prince wanted to embrace and comfort the young senator.

This sympathy vanished with the reappearance of Antony's deceit.

For his part, Horatio was observing everything as if he were doing research for History. 

The tragedy of Cinna the Poet was followed by yet another scene which intensified Hamlet's dislike of Antony.  _How can you accuse Lepidus of being useless and only good enough to be a tool, when you yourself are a mere chit riding on the coattails of an even greater man? Hypocrite._

Horatio was disgusted with Antony, too, but he was more focused on Octavius, the young, relatively unknown relation of Caesar.  _The boy may be young and quite insignificant,_ he thought, smiling,  _but he'll have the last laugh in this affair._

The way Brutus and Cassius acted around each other made Hamlet and Horatio wonder. What had happened between these two lifelong friends to make them speak such bitter words to each other?

Horatio knew that the bribing and miscommunication weren't the real reasons for Brutus' and Cassius' fight. Below all that, he could see that the assassination's failure had taken its toll on their relationship. When they resolved their misunderstanding and became the loyal friends of the first act once more, he felt so affected he gave Hamlet a peck on the cheek out of nowhere, an action unexpected, but greatly appreciated, by the heir to Denmark's throne.

The news of Portia's death turned both of them into sobbing disasters. The ghost of Caesar sent foreboding down their spines.

The last act was quite long-thirty minutes or so-but it all seemed to flash before their eyes. A sense of disturbed peace at Brutus' and Cassius' parting, futile hope at the "cold demeanor in Octavius' wing," disappointment at Cassius' death, admiration for Antony's political tactics, sorrow at Brutus' demise, hope that Octavius would be a good leader-all these mixed into a cathartic conclusion, leaving the students in a daze as they pushed through the crowd and descended from the gallery to see if they could meet some of the players.

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologize for not updating for weeks, I was extremely busy and I could hardly find time to write. Also, this chapter's kinda rambly and super long, maybe a bit overdescriptive, but I just barreled ahead and posted it because the update was long due.
> 
> You can smell my biases in Julius Caesar a mile away now, can't you? I also fangirled about the play through this chapter OTL
> 
> Also, fun fact: I played Metellus Cimber in my school's production of this play.


	3. Reassurance

Horatio looked out the window as he thought of the play. It had been wonderful, and many of the words were now imprinted on his heart. But one line in particular repeated itself in his head over and over again.

_When beggars die, there are no comets seen-_

A young woman in rags sat on the street outside, shivering and hungry.

_The heavens themselves blaze forth the death of princes._

The prince in silks and furs lay beneath the covers, warm and content with life.

Both were looking up at the stars in the sky, appreciating those who made the darkness more bearable.  _How unfair,_ the scholar thought,  _for them to acknowledge one but not the other. Since when did earthly power make someone matter more than their helpless fellow men on the street?_

Hamlet stirred. "Horatio, what is troubling you?"

"Oh," he replied, caught off guard by this unexpected question. "I just remembered that line of Calphurnia's in the second act...the one with beggars and princes." It was only now that Horatio realized he'd been crying. 

"How peculiar," the prince chuckled, "you can discuss things like the witch burnings of Savoy with composure, but one line in a play brings you to tears."

"It wasn't the line on its own," Horatio replied. "It reminded me of you, and how you'll leave me one day. My God, my God, Hamlet-" He paused to correct himself. "I mean, my lord-"

Hamlet walked over to the chair in the corner to comfort his friend. "Horatio, I am twenty-one. I'll hang around to annoy you for at least another century, and when I do die I'll come back to haunt you if you miss me that much." 

The idea was so laughable that Horatio let out a good-natured chuckle through his tears. 

"You'll probably die first, though. 'The good die young,' the old ones say."

"Oh, my lord, do stop talking about death."

"Do stop addressing me as "my lord" when you've been sharing my bed for a year!"

"All right, Hamlet," Horatio sighed happily, pulling the other boy into a tender hug.

When he was sure the other boy was under the umbrella of the Ole-Lukoie, Horatio pulled him closer, whispering, "You know, I wasn't joking. I really would miss you if you died...I love you so much..."

Before he could lay back down on his pillow, the scholar felt a faint brushing of lips on his own, an affectionate chuckle, and a whispered smile in the dark accompanied by the words "I love you too."

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> -I haven't written fluff in a while, so I hope this turns out fine. I believe I did a pretty decent job, though.
> 
> -When I wrote this, literally the only title I could think of was "Reassurance," so you're stuck with that till a better idea presents itself.
> 
> -I personally headcanon Hamlet as 21 or somewhere around there, but that's just my opinion and there's an ongoing debate on that, not to mention the weird stuff in the text, so...don't take this is as gospel truth.
> 
> -My mom told me the Ole-Lukoie story when I was about five. It's basically this creature that gives you good dreams or bad dreams, using the pictures in its umbrella. (I'm not sure exactly how that works, and there are also lots of variations of the name). I decided to reference it because it's a Danish fairytale (though it was written a couple centuries later, by Hans Christian Andersen [?]).
> 
> Thanks for continuing to support me, I love you all ♡♡♡


	4. Meteor Showers

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is where you fully understand the title reference. If at first you don't succeed, cry, cry, again.

The moon hid her face behind the clouds. Horatio surveyed this sight from the battlements of Elsinore, hiding his own eyes behind a handkerchief. 

He looked back on the events of yesterday. Horatio had always believed Hamlet would die content and at peace, surrounded by loved ones and warm sheets, an old, happy king. But it was not to be. Instead, metal had clashed with metal, poison had played murderous tricks, and perpetrators of violence had their designs turned against them.

The worst part was, he had been there to witness it all.

In order to distract himself from death, Horatio thought of happy memories of life. Eventually, his thoughts led him to his time at university.

It had been a wild ride. There was a never-ending stream of work to be done, it was difficult navigating an unfamiliar city, and homesickness sometimes attacked. But throughout all the stress of student life, there had been many bright patches in the dark cloud.

Their favorite pastime had been watching theater. Horatio remembered that one autumn evening when they had watched a play, was it not called _Julius Caesar_?

There had been one line that struck him to the heart. Horatio looked up at the stars, trying to remember.

A meteor shower was dancing across the heavens at this moment. Their tails shone brightly, all fiery splendor, looking like queens decked in all their regalia-

_When beggars die, there are no comets seen, the heavens themselves blaze forth the death of princes._

Remembering Calphurnia’s line, Horatio forgot his contemplation of the night sky’s beauties, and his thoughts were brought back to earth, to the death of his own prince.

Hamlet had comforted him that night, laughingly reassuring Horatio that the lines in the play did not apply to him.

 _I'll hang around to annoy you for at least another century, and when I do die I'll come back to haunt you if you miss me that much,_ the prince had said.

 _Oh,_ Horatio began to weep, _if only that were true._

But some things were never meant to be.

As he looked back at the sky to see the meteors, Horatio thought he could hear a ringing laugh, teasing and comforting at once, similar to the one he had heard that night so many months ago. Perhaps it was just the wind.

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And that's it for this fic! I hope you guys liked it!
> 
> If you want to know, my next couple of fics are going to be Hetalia-related, because I'm responding to a couple prompts on Tumblr. They're for USUK and are a bit longer than these ones so it'll be pretty challenging. One of them also involves a bit of gore, which I'm not used to, so wish me luck!
> 
> I'll still write for the Shakespeare fandom though, maybe continue my Merchant oneshot series (Fresh Off the Gondola).


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